iRandom
by Corcey
Summary: 100 Randomly generated words. 100 one-shots. And a challenge. Anyone else game? Mostly Seddie but not all. Maybe some Spam and Cibby too. Ratings vary.
1. The Word List

Using these 100 random words I got from a random word generator, I shall create 100 little one-shots each based on each word.

If anyone wants to join me, just find a random word generator on Google or something and create a list! This shall be fun!

Oh… and remember I'm a seddie shipper so there will be mostly seddie fics. All will be of different ratings, some K, some K+ and some Teen. Not sure yet if I'll do any M fics. If I do, I'll warn you.

Here's the list that I have compiled!

Device

Special

Education

Disappointing

Lag

Bull

Sketch

Perfect

Enclosing

Jam

Pocket

Uncle

Fall

Girl

Shock

Comment

Reaction

Metric

Eyesight

Originator

Crazy

Popularity

Passion

Throat

Pain

Overlook

Vintage

Probability

System

Voting

Chaos

Difficulty

Blow

Yearly

Acquiring

Complicating

Kingdom

Lyric

Us

Guest

Judgment

Error

Hospital

Terminology

Consciousness

Cosmology

Twist

Aunt

Distress

Framework

Publishing

Reckoning

Misery

Metal

Academic

Fashioning

Recycle

Map

Blood

Register

Harmony

Constitution

Ranting

Science

Level

Spike

Subscription

Predecessor

Find

Postcard

Specify

Variation

Loft

Wild

Port

Worm

Lord

Wand

Bandit

Random

Smell

Colony

Rich

Keeping

Advisor

Color

Wombat

Buy

Charge

Fourth

Preparation

Visible

Threshold

Fighting

Dug

Block

Compelling

Ballet

Point

Inconvenience


	2. Device

**Rating: K**

Mrs. Benson remembered Freddie's first camera.

He sent in the box tops with more zeal than she had ever seen in a six year old. Every time at the grocery store, her little boy would grab that cereal box advertising the free child's camera once their bribe of thirty box tops was satisfied.

Little Freddie ate that cereal until he was sick, trying to empty the box so she would buy another.

"Are you sure you want this brand again?" she would ask him going down the cereal aisle. She saw him sneak a look at the Frosted Flakes, his favorite before seeing the promise of a camera on the front of this cereal box.

"Yeah!" he nodded his head, grabbing a box from the shelf.

Finally, she helped him count how many box tops he had… one… two… three… four… and so on until he reached thirty!

He jumped up, grabbing an envelope from his mother's desk (with her permission of course) and putting them safely into it, making sure not to bend nor tear them. He had been very careful with his box tops since the beginning of this whole thing.

About nine days of Freddie checking the front desk for his package after school, a medium sized box arrived, announcing that it was for Fredward Benson. He squealed with delight when it was placed in his hands and opened it right in the lobby.

And there was his first camera, an orange and blue child's camera. It was worth what she spent on batteries for it to see the smile on his face when he took his first picture. Of course, that picture was of his mom.


	3. Special

Rating: K+

Every time someone would question me about why I was in those pageants, I would explain that my mother made me do them. That was a lie.

Melanie would always go straight home after school to work on her homework. She would finish it within an hour and mom, if she were home, would go all "I love Melanie crazy". I knew this from the rainy days where I had to go straight to the apartment with Melanie or else my mom would yell and scream at me when I caught a cold.

I would get home before sunset or our mom would flip out. Grass stained overalls with holes in them was my normal getup. I hung out a lot with the kids from our apartment building, running wild across the streets.

Anyway, the point of this was while Melanie was getting her doting from mom every single day. I spent those days building my reputation around the neighborhood. That's why Melanie never got teased or beat up: because I was her sister.

I would get home and Melanie would be doing something with mom. Usually watching one of those stupid soap operas. Mom would sometimes not even realize I came in before she started yelling, "your sister better get home soon or I'll whip her little-." She got as far and that before I would come out of mine and Melanie's room to show her that the threat would not be necessary.

Sometimes if I wondered if she even knew my name. So that's why, when the Little Miss Seattle pageant came by I begged her to enter me in it. I thought it would be something that I could share with her.

I begged and pleaded.

"You know, Sam, that really isn't your thing," she would say. "That thing's more for Melanie than you."

Melanie was far too busy in her studies to thing of doing some pageant. I never thought that I'd be thankful for multiplication problems.

"Please momma! Please!" I would ask.

Finally, she said "all right. Fine you little miss seeks attention!" She, _Melanie_, and I hopped into the car to enter me in the pageant.

But even as mom would never miss a chance to spend time and adore her precious special Melanie. I was doing my dancing routine with only my sister in the audience, sitting next to an empty chair as my mom went to the bar across the street or down the road until it was over.

I just wanted to be special.

And I never saw that I was until I looked at my sister, the perfect Miss Melanie after one of the shows.

"You were amazing!" she said, even though I only won second place. "Your dancing is really something special!"

Something special… maybe… just maybe… mom will one day see that too.


	4. Education

**Rating: K**

"Well Sam maybe if you went to community college for a few years-," Carly was trying to say.

"Yeah right," I rolled my eyes. Freddie and Carly shared a worried glance when they thought I wasn't looking. "I'll be fine. You guys don't have to help me get my life on track. That's supposed to be my job, isn't it?"

"Yeah but Sam you're not doing your job at all!" Carly insisted.

"Look. I'm just not cut out for college," I shrugged. "And I am doing my job. I'm working at the Groovy Smoothie, aren't I?"

"You seriously want to work selling smoothies for the rest of your life?" Freddie asked.

"It's none of your business Fredweird what _I_ do for the rest of _my_ life." I yelled at them.

"But Sam-," Carly began but I finished it.

"I just don't want to be trapped in school for the next however many years! It's a miracle I graduated high school! Aren't you two happy enough with that?"

"But Sam you're so much-."

"So much what?" I shouted. "So much _smarter_ than just stopping going to school and working at the Groovy Smoothie? Fat chance."

"But Sam you haven't even applied to any school! How do you know they won't accept you! You were doing so much better this year!"

"Yeah, getting by on a C- average isn't going to cut it apparently."

"How would you know if you didn't even try?" Freddie said.

"Because I did try!" I yelled and immediately regretted telling them.

"What?"

"I didn't get into any of them!"

"How many did you apply to?" Freddie scowled.

"… Six," I blushed at my failure to get into any school but wouldn't let them see it as I stormed out of the Shay apartment directly after.


	5. Disappointing

**Rating: T**

Sam got home from the hospital a few days after the incident. I kept the door closed to the room that was the first right down the hall. The little blue room remained abandoned for the next few weeks.

"Get rid of it," she said to me one day while she was watching television and I was working on my computer.

"Hm?" I looked up to her scowl.

"Get rid of it," she repeated. Her blue eyes darted from me to the closed door in the hallway.

"What if-?"

"It's not going to happen Freddie," she said in the softest tone I had ever heard her use.

I nodded. It wasn't going to happen. There was no sense in arguing with her. She didn't want to go through this again so she wasn't even going to try.

I couldn't hold back the tears of failure and disappointment while dismantling the crib.


	6. Lag

Rating: K

"Whose idea was this?" Freddie gasped as they went up the steep hill.

"Come on you guys!" Carly called from way ahead of them, a group of little green uniforms right behind her. "You're lagging!"

"I'm eating!" Sam yelled back, taking another bite from the beef jerky Freddie had brought along (which she stole from his backpack).

"Why did we have to go on _this_ trail?" Freddie said, again out of breath.

"Cause the troop leader said so," Carly said. Of course she, the leader, would pick the hardest trail to go on. Although, the group of eight and nine year-olds seemed to be handling it well.

"Fredweird, ask a question that matters," Sam snapped. "Anyone of you munchkins have some beef jerky or meat in their lunch. Momma's getting low."

"Sam!" Carly said.

"What? Sharing is caring Carls. I thought that's what the Girl Explorers were supposed to teach."

Carly just rolled her eyes and said, "well come on slow pokes! At this rate we won't get to the lunch area until dinner!"

"Ugh!" Sam and Freddie groaned making it slowly up the hill.

"Let's just leave 'em behind!" a little girl said.

"Yeah!" a chorus of squeaky voices echoed.

Carly smiled. "Fine if you guys won't speed up, we are not waiting for you."

"What?" Freddie said. "You can't just leave us here!"

"Follow the trail and you won't get lost," Carly called from behind her back. "You two are old enough to understand the buddy system!"

"What? Carly! You can't possibly leave me here with the nub!" She tried to run up the hill but it was too steep and she lost her footing, falling on the dusty trail. Freddie held in a laugh because he knew if he did laugh, he would be finishing the rest of the hike with a limp.

Sam emerged from the ground with her jeans and T-shirt dirt-coated. "Carly! Carly!" she screamed. "This isn't funny!"

"Let's just try to catch up to them," Freddie suggested, and surprisingly, Sam did not argue.

"Okay but do you have any more beef jerky?" she said.

"No," he squeaked, signaling her that he did. She then grabbed his backpack from his shoulder and ran into the forest next to the trail, skidding over the ivy.

"Sam!" he yelled and followed her.

By the time he caught up with her, she was munching on his jerky, out of breath as he was.

"All right, you have the jerky," Freddie gasped from his lack of air. "Now can we go back?"

"Sure as long as I get to eat the rest of this jerky," she said, holding up the bag full of it. He had meant to save some to make Sam be nice to him on the hike.

"Fine," he said.

She smiled and then got up from her spot on a log.

"Then let's go."


	7. Bull

Gracie kept jabbering on about getting a dog all the way to the dog rescue center.

"I'm gonna name him Icky!" she said with a big smile on her face.

"What if it's a girl?" I said.

"Icky!" she repeated.

"Wait till I tell Ethel about my new dog!" six-year-old Gracie was practically jumping up and down in her seat in the car.

"Poor Gibby," Freddie said, keeping his eyes on the road, "then Ethel will be begging for a dog."

"Aww, he can handle a six-year-old," I shrugged.

"We couldn't," he laughed. "Or else we wouldn't be on the way to get her a dog."

"Well, Gracie's part me." I explained. "I don't think Ethel is as good at manipulating as Gracie is with her goody-too-shoes genes."

"Yeah," Freddie laughed as he parked the car. As soon as the car stopped, Gracie undid her seatbelt and jumped out of the car.

"Come on mommy! Come on!" Gracie said, rushing us into the building. "We _need_ a dog!"

"Fine, slow down kid," I told her as she ran into the room where they kept the dogs.

"Awwww!" Gracie said, as she looked at all the dogs.

"Nothing too big, Gracie!" Freddie warned.

After about two minutes of Gracie sticking her fingers into the cages, getting licked, barked at, and pawed, her eyes went big.

"I want him!" she shouted, pointing at the wrinkle-face bulldog puppy trying to get through the bars on the cage. Huh. Kind of like my uncle when he got arrested. (He thought he was skinny enough to slip through the bars.)

"His name's gonna be Icky!" she said.

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! They really mean a lot to me!**


	8. Sketch

**Rating: K**

Spencer always knew that his passion was for art and not for arguments in a courtroom. He silenced his thought about how the classroom with rows and rows of seats would be jazzed up with just a big shiny sculpture made out of soda cans.

His obsession with art started, probably, when he was sent to an art class after Carly was born and his mother died. He was thirteen and the school counselor recommended an outlet for his self-expression.

Spencer was sent to Miss Zarnelly, a woman who lived down the street and had art lessons. He remembers his first drawing. It was of his baby sister. He remembered how proud he was when he finished it. He remembered how happy his dad was when he saw it. He remembered-.

"Spencer!" his sister's voice snapped him out of his reverie. He quickly folded up the drawing of Carly at a few months old. Spencer put it in his jeans pocket quickly as he exited his bedroom.

"Come on we're gonna be late," Sam told him.

"One more picture!" Mrs. Benson demanded, clicking a photo of the smiling three in their long blue gowns complete with matching square hats.

"Did you find your camera?" Carly asked him.

"No," he sighed. "But I did find this." He pulled the tattered old paper out of his pocket.

"What's that?" Freddie asked.

"My first drawing," he opened it up and showed the graduating teenagers.

"Is that me?" Carly asked.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Yeah."


	9. Perfect

Rating: T

He watched her stride away. He'd hate to admit it but he had gotten into the habit of watching her when no one was looking. Like what he used to do when Carly was around but this was more… intense. The crush on Carly was a simple girl-next-door boyish crush. This, he hated to say it, but he practically leered at her.

His eyes roaming up and down her body. Sometimes he imagined Sam being in his arms, him holding her smooth skinny torso, her legs wrapped around his legs. He would never admit it even under Chinese Water Torture, but he fantasized about her.

Sometimes when he watched her walk away, or just stand there for that matter he would end up having to put a book in his lap after a few minutes of wondering if the skin that she did show was so perfect, then what about the skin she didn't show?

Freddie examined her when no one else did. When she would got out into the alley behind the school to smoke and cry.

Oh she was so perfect on the outside, but so mangled on the inside. And he longed for the day she would show him not only how perfect she was but how hurt she is because you can't treat a wound until you see how bad it is.

A/N: Thanks to those who review! So... Please review! 


	10. Enclosing

**Rating: K+**

He knew that he was trapping her the minute he proposed. But he was selfish. He couldn't stand her being wild and actually living her life to the fullest. He wanted her to himself.

She accepted his proposal. She said, "I do". She bought the house with him. She got pregnant. She became the little soccer mom that she never wanted nor expected to be.

Carly said that she was thoroughly impressed at Sam's transformation from delinquent to perfect little suburban wife. Sam came down the stairs from putting the kids to bed and sipped her coffee.

Freddie knew this life was not for her. He knew the unhappiness and discontentment that she hid. She saw young people in the grocery store who were buying for a long road trip while she was buying cereal with dinosaurs on them.

He knew the wall of their whitewashed house were enclosing on her. He knew she felt guilt for looking at her beautiful children and still feeling nothing.

It wasn't a big surprise when he woke up to her side of the bed being empty. He checked the closet and half of her clothes were gone. He looked outside in the driveway and her car was gone.

He ran down the stairs as quickly as he could without waking the kids. There, on the kitchen table, he saw the note.

"The walls were too close to me. I'm so sorry. I love you guys so much but I can't handle this."

He wondered what he would tell his eight-year-old and toddler when they ask where mommy was?


	11. Jam

Rating: T for safety

"Freddie," Sam moaned.

"Hm?" Freddie hummed, not wanting to get up again. He didn't even want to open his eyes to see what time it was. He knew it was going to be late.

"Get me some popcorn and jam," she said, voice foggy with sleep.

"You want it now?" he complained, finally peeking through his eyelids to see that it was two thirty in the morning.

"Yes," she said.

"But you'll probably fall asleep before I get it for you."

She swung her leg in the bed to kick him. He turned over so she would not hit her designated target.

"Okay fine. I'm getting it," he mumbled, getting out of the bed.

Ever since Sam got pregnant, she has had cravings in the middle of the night for stuff that is surprisingly not meat. He put the popcorn in the microwave and went to the refrigerator to find the jam.

He moved around all the pieces of meat and everything else in the fridge until he finally remembered that she used the last of the jelly to dip her ribs in last week, the combination of the barbeque sauce and sweet strawberry jam made him throw away the rest of the jar and every time he went to the store in search of her latest craving's ingredients, he had forgotten to get the jar. Plus, he had been busy with his term paper.

Freddie looking feigningly to his laptop on the table, his paper was due in two weeks and he barely got through the first two pages. With his pregnant girlfriend, job, and other classes, he didn't have the time to sit down and write a twenty-page research report. He sighed. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be.

"Sam," he said, walking back to the bed. "There's no more jam."

"Then get some."

He exhaled slowly, "all right." Freddie got the keys from the bedside table and made his way out of their small apartment, locking the door behind him. In his pajamas, he went down the concrete stairs where he could hear even more clearly the landlord and his wife yelling at each other, probably about money.

There were a few of the neighbors in the front parking lot, indulging on cigarettes. Freddie really hoped that he and Sam could save enough money to get a better apartment before the baby's born. He'd been thinking about taking a semester off from college and going full time at the insurance place but he hadn't told Sam yet. She was only about fourteen weeks (three and a half months) along but that was still way too soon for him.

He walked down and across the street to the little grocery store that he was lucky enough to live near (despite the fact that it got robbed almost as much as a convenience store). He grabbed a jar of strawberry jam and put a five-dollar bill on the counter. The tired-looking man who owned the store gave him his change and he put it in the pocket of his pajama pants. They needed every dime they got.

As he walked back to the dingy apartment building, he thought of how he got into this mess. It was his last year at college, Sam and him wanted to buy a small home in a nicer area after he graduated but then Sam found out she was pregnant.

That sent their plans into a tailspin. He had to increase his hours in his clerical job at a local insurance agency, the doctor's bills are insane and he will definitely not graduate in time.

As he walked up the dirty stairs to his home that he hoped was only temporary, and as a car driving erratically down the street followed by a wailing police car passed, Freddie Benson wondered how he went from a promising student of a highly ranked technical college to living in a horrible apartment an hour away from his school where he was barely passing any of his classes and buying a jar of jam for his pregnant girlfriend at three in the morning.


	12. Pocket

Rating: T

Mrs. Benson wouldn't call herself a snooping parent; she was just a caring one. The weekly room checks were for his own good. She had a right to know what was going on in her fifteen-year-old son's life, right? And, of course, they weren't "room checks": they were more like cleaning. Or an inspection of his cleaning since he was such a good little boy when it came to keeping his room organized and tidy.

Besides, she needed to check his pockets before putting them in the laundry in case they had something like nail polish that could ruin the clothes. Granted she did not know why nail polish would be in her son's pants but she still had to check!

Usually she found some change and maybe even a dollar or two. Sometimes she saved a few cords from getting a ride in the washing machine. A folded piece of paper with history notes on it, another note with a date telling when the next AV club meeting was, and every now and then she would find one with a girls name and a seven-digit number on it. Those ones she tore up and threw away immediately.

At first she thought that there was a candy bar wrapper in his jeans pocket from the rustling of a wrapper. She put her hand in the pocket to take it out and her eyes went wide and face pale.

"FREDWARD BENSON!" she screamed. Her son appeared at the doorway, looking startled. As soon as he saw the condom in her hand he began explaining with wide eyes that were matching his mother's.

"They gave them to us in health class! I wasn't going to use it I swear!"

A/N: Haha. Please review. They make me happy!


	13. Uncle

Rating: K

He could only sit there while they were doing god knows what to his little baby sister. Of course, his sister was a grown woman now with a husband and all but she was still a baby to him.

He sometimes heard a scream and wondered if that was she. If that was it.

The nurses told him they only allowed the father in the delivery room. He was practically the soon-to-be-mom's dad. He had raised her once their mom died and their dad shipped out. Why couldn't he be in there with Carly and her husband?

Sitting in the hospital chair, waiting for the news was horrible. He kept his head in his hands, thinking of all the things that could go wrong.

"Spencer?" he looked up only to see Mrs. Benson, whom he had no idea how she knew about Carly being in labor until he looked up to see Sam and Freddie with their little girl. Freddie must have called her.

"Yeah, Mrs. Benson?" he said.

"Are you okay?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

"I'm fine." He replied.

"No you're not," she accused, her hard-shell not breaking.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Benson."

"I know how it is, you know." He saw a tiny crack in the hard-shell in her voice.

He glanced back at Freddie playing patty-cake with his daughter to keep her entertained.

"Yeah I guess you do," I said.

"It's hard seeing the baby you raise or at least try to raise," maybe that crack was filling a little bit, "have a baby of their own."

"Except I'm not getting like a grandfather title. I'm just an uncle."

"Just an uncle?" she said. "You know, I was nearly raised by my uncle. I loved to go over to his house and play. Also he would be the one who spoiled me."

"Spoiled you?"

"Oh yes I remember when he would let me dust the entire house. He was a single guy so he didn't keep the place in such good order but I loved to just run that cloth around and catch all the dust."

"I'm sure that was nice," he said that with an uncomfortable twinge that she didn't pick up.

"Well, long story short, my uncle was closer to me than anyone when I was growing up. So you can't be _just_ an uncle. You're an uncle. Be proud."

"Thanks Mrs. Benson."

"And, you know, being a grandmother isn't half bad either."

He smiled and nodded.

"Just don't mess this kid up," she said and left. He scowled, thinking about her last sentence but he didn't have much time to think as right then the doctor walked out of the room and he was getting up to bombard him with questions about how Carly and the baby were doing.


	14. Fall

**Rating: K**

Ever since I've met Sam I've had a tendency of falling.

She liked to trip me.

"_I'm going to get some ice tea, anyone want some?" I offered, getting off the couch._

"_I'll have some," Carly said._

"_Yeah get me some too, nub," Sam ordered._

_I was trying to pass the two sets of ankles when suddenly a foot came and hooked onto mine. My hands were then out in front of me on the floor, trying to save myself from getting my head cracked open. And then I heard Sam laughing._

She liked to push me.

"Hey nub get out of my way," Sam said on the way to the cafeteria. The next thing I knew, I was falling toward the dirty floor of the hallway. And then I heard Sam laughing.

She liked to love me.

Her head was in the crook of my neck and my arms were around her waist, holding her closer. And then I started falling yet again. This time, not psychically. And then I heard Sam laughing.


	15. Girl

Rating: K _Age 5_

"You stay away from little girls!"

"Why mommy? Carly is very pretty! And she smells like flowers!"

"Because little girls are little monsters!"

_Age 11_

"You will not go near that Carly girl!"

"But mom!"

"No 'buts' Fredward! Now go to your room now!"

"Fine…"

Age 13

"I really don't think you should go out with that Valerie girl!"

"Mom just stop it! I'm going out with her!"

"She will break your heart just like everyone of those monstrous little girls!"

Age 15

"All right, Freddie… I have come to the conclusion… that… you're a big boy now. And… I guess you can have a girlfriend."

"Mom I already have a girlfriend."

"Who?"

"A girl I met online. Sabrina."

"An Internet girl!"

Age 17

"What did you say Freddie? You really need to stop mumbling. It's bad for your vocal and social skills."

"I said… um… I got a new girlfriend…"

"Who?"

"Now mom, don't flip out but-."

"Who!"

"Sam."

"Have you gone insane!"

Age 21

"Mom?"

"Freddie, are you all right?"

"I'm wonderful. Mom, I just asked Sam to marry me. And she said yes…! Mom? Mom!"

Age 26

"Mom!"

"Yes Freddie? Are you all right? You sound flushed! Is Sam all right?"

"We're great mom! It's a girl! It's a baby girl!"

"I'll be right there."


	16. Shock

Rating: T for safety

Being Spencer Shay, the clumsy artist he was, of course he was sure to get a few shocks in his life. Especially when he was working on a light bulb sculpture. He got a couple small shocks now and then. A couple larger ones too. But nothing that would kill him.

The worst shock out of his entire life was not physical. Actually, he was working on a light bulb sculpture at the time. But when he saw his little baby sister making out _on her bed _with _Gibby_ of all people! Well, him fainting was definitely not an overreaction. Neither was grounding her for a month.


	17. Comment

Rating: K

"Whatcha doing Fredweirdo?" Sam came from the stairs of the Shay loft.

"Checking the iCarly comments," I said, ignoring the nickname as I usually do. Carly said something but I was too busy reading one of the comments that a viewer put on the site. It had about twenty "thumbs up" responses.

"What?"

"I said what are the people saying?"

"Oh um…" they must have seen the red coming to my cheeks though I desperately tried to hide it.

"What?" Sam said. "Awww did someone mention Freddie's anti-bacteria underwear?"

"No." I said though I might as well admit to it. It was less painful then the actual comment.

"Let me see," Carly said and walked over but I shut my laptop quickly. "What's the matter?"

"It's just… it's… a weird comment."

"Well what does it say?"

"Yeah come on Fredward, we do weird stuff on the show all the time. How weird can the comment be?"

"Um…"

Carly grabbed my laptop and opened it. My blush must have deepened as I tried to grab it back from her but she got in open in no time and was reading it out loud.

"Puppyluvr says:

God when are Sam and Freddie going to finally get together! They are perfect for each other!"

Carly was the only one laughing while I must have looked like a tomato and so did Sam (only hers was from anger I'll bet).


End file.
